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About Kiri Callaghan

Born from ink and stardust, Kiri Callaghan enthusiastically prods and catalogues the world around her. She's driven by questions: the why's and what if's of life. Her peers call her fickle, seemingly unable to focus on a singular field of study. She reads, cooks, crafts, and games. Submerged in some new thing, she explores unexplained supernatural phenomena or how to make a proper cake pop. Kiri is a writer, singer, actor, and adventurer. Above all, Kiri is curious.

Kiri Callaghan currently resides in Los Angeles, California.

To stay updated on her upcoming projects and events or more or less peek into the madness that lies within, you may find her at the following locations:

Author Updates

It’s no secret that I am a fan of tea. And why shouldn’t I be? It’s amazing. It’s so versatile, it’s like saying you’re a fan of sandwiches. You can have it any way you like, hot, iced, with cream or sugar, with nothing added, green, black, white, herbal (or as I like to call it, why even bother? I kid). Caffeinated, decaf, caffeine has never even breathed up on this fruit infusions, floral, smoky, sweet, chocolatey, caramel… Somewhere out there, there is likely a tea you’ll like. Whimsy

Her name is not important, because from this moment forward, neither she nor you will be using it. That name belongs to another time, another girl, another story which would have been told if it hadn’t been unceremoniously unwritten before it even had a chance to truly begin. That name belongs to someone who would have lived a much different life. And while it may have been wondrous and beautiful in its own right, it’s a story that could never be. I am not here to guess the impossible what ifs.

It exists out of time, and physical space as you may know it, and while there are many doors, you will find this particular gateway in the heart of the Silver Lake neighborhood of Los Angeles. The historic venue of El Cid is iconic in its appearance and since its opening in 1962 has been the premiere location for authentic Spanish tapas and flamenco dance. But once a month, much like the swelling of the full moon, it is the gateway to what has been simply referred to as “The Poetry Brothel”.

Amazing Header Image by Timothy Winkler
No video today! Doing things a little differently. I have come to accept sometimes I just get camera fatigue. And that’s okay. Because the great thing about working across a wide-variety of mediums… means I can still talk to you even when I don’t want to be in front of a camera.
Oh kindred, isn’t technology awesome?
So. Scene-transitions. This is something I was asked to talk about–how do you decide what to write about, when a scene end

Following her best friend’s suicide, Alyson Carroll descends into the realm of Dreams and Nightmares. In her quest to find home, she discovers that Charlie might not truly be gone after all, but when she meets Oswin, the prince of Terra Mirum, Alys must face her own fears and raise an army against The Nightmare Queen, or surrender as the world of dreams is consumed by terror and darkness forever.

All the chapters of the "Into the Dust" series, now available in one collection!

Follow the dark adventures in this introduction to the other-world of Uphoria, wondrous realm in which all can be had for the price of one happiest thought. Pixies, pirates, mermaids, minotaurs and more, all as close as an outstretched hand. But is the cost worth the wish?

Contains the following tales:

"Lost", by Ren Cummins"Avast", by Ren Cummins"The Lily or the Tiger", by Kiri Callaghan"Hollow", by Ren Cummins"Labyrinth", by Ren Cummins"The Mermaid's Tale", by Kiri Callaghan"What Dreams...", by Ren Cummins"All that Glitters", by Kiri Callaghan"Shadow", by Ren Cummins"A Hawk from a Handsaw", by Kiri Callaghan

Uphoria leaves its mark on everyone who enters it; what we sacrifice to get there and what we lose without even realizing it.

Campañita, the little bell, is simply trying to survive in a post Uphoric-world... by any means she can.

Sample:

“You don’t make enough selling Dust?”

“I try not to,” Campañita muttered. An admission he didn’t understand—an admission he’d likely never understand. She didn’t mind. Confiding in strangers meant never having to face the consequence of honesty.

“I don’t… Do you like it?”

“Being a hooker?”

He flinched again. You’d think the word caused him some sort of physical harm.

“No,” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “But there are worse things I could do.” She felt more aware of the way the safety pin bounced against her chest when she walked.

Uphoria offers anything to its inhabitants should they just only wish it hard enough... but at what price?

Excerpt:

Beauty. I have little memory of the world that was but I do remember beauty. Like a sweet, intoxicating wine that left a bitter taste in your mouth if you ever stopped drinking—not that you ever wanted to stop drinking. Beauty toppled kingdoms, incited jealous curses and even charmed the gods themselves.

It was important.

It was coveted.

It was power.

But like everything on the world that was, it was also fleeting. Rare, delicate and brutally transient, beauty had never been something one could actually hold onto. You could be something of beauty… but you could not possess it.

Or so they thought.

From Kiri Callaghan, bard and author of the One-Act Play "Funeral Potatoes", and Ren Cummins, author of the young adult Steampunk series "Chronicles of Aesirium", comes this series of childhood dreams, adult remorse and all the fantastic adventures which lie between.

"The Mermaid's Tale" is the sixth story in the "Into the Dust" series, and numbers to over 5,000 words.

It was meant to be a new kind of trip; the best high you'll ever taste, but Lily is about to understand that even a pinch of Dust is enough to change the course of your life forever.

Excerpt:God, I wanted to fall in love.Amidst the flurry of the romantic revolution--that’s when the rumors started. We heard about them at school: whispers of people reconnecting with their dreams after waking. A way back down the rabbit hole; back into that childhood state of mind where if you could think it--if you truly believed it--it was.They called it ‘Dust’.